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Alara finds Ciara mourning the breaking of her fishing rod. J'cobi appears, and Ciara is caught in the middle of a tense conversation between the two.

Rating:

PG-13

Logger:

Ciara

Open sky gives way to stone as one enters the galleries. The small room built into the rock is architecturally designed to draw the attention down below: to the sands. Holding six tiers of five seats each, the room is fairly etched out of the stone of the caldera, giving its occupants places to rest while their focus is on the life-changing space before them. A long rail sits between them and the ground, keeping people from angry dragons or painful falls.

The sound of wind howling around the Weyrbowl is muted in the hatching galleries, which bring a reprieve from the cool weather. The heat of the sands seems to permeate one's very bones. Someone needs that almost comforting heat more than others, so it would seem this morning: Ciara sits up in the galleries, alone, a fishing rod resting across her knees. Her hands sadly stroke its broken reel, which is almost detached from the body of the item. The expression on her face is almost akin to grief as she caresses the inanimate object with fondness, her fingers always lingering on the broken part.

Alara is tired of standing, and is tired on the whole. She gives a quiet snort at something her gold says, and traipses up the stairs to sit down. "No, luv. I'm not very far away." In the corner of the room, there are a couple blankets and a pillow. It won't be the most comfortable place to rest, but Alara has done worse. She trudges toward them, intent on sitting or possibly laying down to rest, and nearly trips over Ciara's feet. "Oh. I'm sorry. Oh, my goodness. I didn't expect anyone to be up here." She lifts her head, turning to look toward the candidate, noticing the broken reel. "Oh, no! What happened to your fishing pole?"

Ciara jerks her feet back when someone's suddenly almost tripping over her. "Oh!" Her surprise at the sudden appearance of a person morphs into guilt when she realises just who it is up there with her. "Oh, Weyrwoman, I'm sorry…." She trails off as she realises Alara's queried the broken pole, however. "I was…I was teaching someone how to fish and they accidentally threw it in the lake." The tragedy of the situation makes her voice weak. "I don't think I can afford to fix it. Or buy a new one. And I can't make Ahni pay for it, it was me that took her out there!" The words spill out of Ci in a rush, as she looks up at Alara sadly.

"Oh." The emotional woman throws the tired Alara for a long moment, and all she can do is set a comforting hand on her shoulder, and nod as she listens. "We do have a handyman, I think." She considers. "He's one of your fellow candidates now, isn't he?" She frowns, and moves to sit down beside the young woman. "Merende" She's really tired. "Merez" No, that's not it either. "The tall, built blond bloke." She snorts. "I can't remember his whole name." She reaches up and rubs her eyes.

Under the touch of that comforting hand, Ciara sags a bit from her tense, upright position of inner torment. She listens as Alara names - or, at least, tries to name - someone who might be able to help. And sags some more as she works out who the Weyrwoman means. "Oh. Him…." She doesn't notice the eye rubbing, as she looks down at her fishing rod again. "I don't think I'd be able to barter what he'd like with him." An undercurrent of dignity is in her voice as she says that.

Alara's hands drop to her sides, and she turns toward the other woman, tiredness gone. "He isn't being a cad to you ladies is he? Pressing untoward advances?" She leans forward a bit, emphasizing her point. "Because if he's doing so, I shall have words with him." She gazes down at the reel again. "Perhaps one of the smiths in the area could help?"

"Umm," and the desire /not/ to dob someone in is strong, but Ci has pride (for herself and for Ahnika), dammit. "Well…he tried to get…someone to kiss him in exchange for hunting lessons. A girl." She looks down at the rod when Alara spins the conversation that way again, stroking the dangling reel gently. "Oh…are there any at the Weyr? But," and that all important point comes to the forefront again, "I can't afford the repairs. At least, if they're going to be expensive. And now I'm a candidate I hardly need the rod all the time." She bites her lower lip, staring at the dratted reel.

"Well, we do need the fish. So, if you're fishing for the Weyr, then the Smiths can surely do me a personal favor by repairing an all-important fishing reel. I don't think they'll complain too loudly." She purses her lips. "Well, I suppose a kiss isn't too bad, and if he's backing away when the lady says no, that's about all we can do. If he starts to do more than that, let me, weyrwoman Randi, or brownrider T'ryn know." It might appear odd that Alara has completely neglected to mention the Weyrleader in this list.

J'cobi has arrived.

"Oh…I'll go ask them then. Thank you so much! I hope they can fix it. My dad gave it to me when I was young…." Don't get too soppy, Ciara. The girl nods at Alara's words on the "issue" with Zen. The inclusion of T'ryn in the list of contacts is unnoticed to the ex-holder, but the lack of J'cobi is not. "What about Weyrleader J'cobi?" She asks in complete and utter innocence, looking at Alara for the answer.

"What about him?" J'cobi grunts, suddenly occupying a space that was until just now J'cobi-less. Funny how he manages to wander through such conversations on a regular basis. He doesn't so much pause as slow down slightly to look at the pair with a practiced 'I know what you've been doing' stare. Yes, he'll even level such a stare at his boss.

"Oh, he's lovely when it comes to training dragons how to fly straight in formation, but just between you, me, and my girl there, he's not as … careful about such things. I'm not sure how he'd respond, but he might not be the most sympathetic soul." Alara says, shifting a little to make herself comfortable. "Yes. If you happen to see that Smith Neythan, he's fairly good at the fixing of things, I think. I don't remember any of the others around at the moment. My head isn't the clearest…." She gives a soft chuckle. "Yes, dear."
When J'cobi tromps up the stairs, now filling that space, Alara looks up quickly. "Oh. I was just saying that you might not be the person to take … personnel issues to." The words carry just a little bit of sting.

Ciara starts at the sound of a new voice, and widened eyes take in J'cobi. After a moment's blank staring, the mans face clicks and Ci's lips go into a little 'o' of surprise at his appearance at this point in the conversation. She can't exactly reply to Alara's comment with the man stood right there - but, then, the Weyrwoman has a comment for him, anyway. One that causes Ci to sink back in her seat, trying to become one with the stone. "I'll try and find Neythan, thank you, ma'am," she mumbles, still looking up at J'cobi with no small amount of awe at his sudden and unexpected presence.

"Maybe I would have made a better Weyrlingmaster," J'cobi asks, quirking an eyebrow - yes, he certainly noticed the sting, "considering my uses seem to focus solely on making dragons fly straight."
He laughs a little, though it's rather cold. Suddenly, he's addressing Ciara, "Let me give you a description of how things stand here. Apparently, because I refuse to coddle everyone this means I have it in for them. However, rather than simply voice our concerns we cast glares at each other and gossip like children."
Lack of respect? Most likely, but apparently something has ruffled the Weyrleader's feathers at last, "And believe me, I would certainly attend to my duties elsewhere if I could afford to. The idea, of course, that I cannot handle issues of personnel being based on the fact that the two personnel I have dealt with, with any frequency, have both already decided on their opinions."
He moves towards the rail and looks down towards the sands for a moment. Apparently, he's hearing part of a conversation that the others are not privy to and he snaps at the air, "I'm well aware. I've had my fill."

"Right. And you might've done." This is neither the time, nor the place for this discussion, but it has begun, so she will continue it. "But the reality of this is, my dear Weyrleader, that our dragons made the choice, so we are both in this position, and both need to make the best of this situation." She scowls tiredly at the man, and then turns to Ciara. "I'm sorry…" She runs her hands through her hair and gazes out toward the sands to watch Rauzath move again, reaching for another egg.
"I've never been in this position before. And wasn't expecting to be for Turns." She stands, moving behind Ciara so she can pace. "But here I am. And we have … " she counts the eggs coming, "oh. That's a rather good number for this stage." She doesn't say how many, but it definitely improves her mood. "I'm sorry for my words; they mightn't have been the most diplomatic, J'cobi, but I'm drowning here." And, in most places, there are more hands to make the work light.

Ciara really doesn't know how to respond to J'cobi. Difficult situation. "Um," is all she can get out in the face of his annoyance, still staring up at him like a deer caught in the proverbial headlights. Alara's apology is met with the slightest of nods, but the girl still keeps her mouth shut, sitting there awkwardly while the argument-slash-conversation goes on around her and over her head. The fishing rod on her lap is clutched tighter to her, like some sort of bizarre comforter. She just can't quite bring herself to get up and leave in the situation. She'll just stare down at the sands and moving Rauzath and pretend not to hear the other two people.

"If there is work to be done then you assign it," J'cobi points out, apparently trying to drown out a certain voice in his head, "And forget your opinions of the person. I - " The Weyrleader sighs audibly, glances skywards with a groan and shakes his head, "If you'll send word to me about what needs to be done, I'll see to it." He begins to move away, apparently he has words that need to be had with a certain bronze dragon.

"I shall then." Alara agrees with that. "And it might be to yourself as well." She gives that warnintg to the man. "Go. Go take care of him." She even includes the brushing off hand motions. "I'll talk to you after this," she nods toward the Sands proper, "is over, and I've had my extra sleep." Which she always does. "I'm sorry, Ciara. I do try not to express my disagreements in front of those uninvolved, but it sometimes happens." She gives a soft snort. "Oh, shush you." She turns toward the Sands again. "You're doin' so well, luv. Keep it up." It's spoken softly, but it is voiced.

Ciara is trying ever so hard not to listen to the Weyrleaders, but she /is/ nosey, and likely their little conversation will be filed away in her head somewhere for future contemplation. When J'cobi starts to move away and Alara apologises, Ciara shifts her gaze away from the sands and onto the Weyrwoman instead. "Oh…it's okay." She absently runs a hand up and down the fishing rod. "I shouldn't be sat here when you have important things to do. I should go." Now that the tension in the air is basically gone, she stands, picking up the pole as she gets up. Curiosity does get the better of her, though fortunately it's not to do with the Weyrleaders' issues. "How much longer will Rauzath be um…clutching?"

"It's okay. It's a public place. It's not like a weyr or something." Alara laughs at her own silly pun, and shrugs. "I think it's roughly half through. So, maybe another day or two? It really depends on several things. She has to stay relaxed and calm, or it takes much longer. Our first clutch it took nearly a full seven. We were both a mess by the end of it. It took one of the other goldriders sitting down and explaining a few secrets to me for things to go more smoothly the next time." She is fully aware that she's rambling, but not awake enough to stop. "So, given our stress level here, and the number so far, I'd say probably another two days yet." Unfortunately.

Ciara gives Alara a curious look when the woman laughs; she doesn't get the joke, it would seem. "Oh…I didn't realise it took so long." There's a lot to learn here, and apparently every day brings some new knowledge. Ci gives the gold another look, though it's only for a fraction of a minute, and then she's turned her attention back to Alara. "Um. Well. I hope it all goes well for her…for both of you. I'll leave you alone now and stop bothering you." And, finally, that old smile of Ci's is back, if pale in comparison to its usual self. "Thank you for hearing me out." She bobs in a polite curtsey, before she leaves down the steps and out into the windy 'bowl.